Betrayal and relief
by mindlessRevalations
Summary: Dave confronts a trickster John, and things go... South.


Your name is Dave Strider, and you are very, very confused.

_How could this happen?_ You wonder. Just last week, John was his usual dorky self. And now, he's like… some psychopath with tights. I mean, look at how he's _dressed._ Brightly colored tights under his usual cargo shorts, except they were neon blue. Who was this kid? Certainly wasn't John.

"Heya, Dave!" he called to you.

"John..?" you asked, quizzically.

"Yes, Dave! Wanna play a game?" he asked, in an unsure and unsettling tone.

"Game?" you ask. "What sort of game?"

"Lots! We can play hide and seek, tag, the knife game…" his voice droned on.

"The knife game? What's that..?" you ask timidly, interrupting his list of activities. Dave Strider doesn't get scared, but this wasn't fucking normal.

"It sounds to me like you wanna play! It goes like this." He said, as he pulled out a knife from his pocket.

This was it for you. His crazy fashion sense, his fucked up psycho attitude, and now this. He has a knife. _Think goddamn it! Come on, Strider. Do something, before one of you gets hurt! _you think, frantically.

John sits at the table. This was the only thing separating you two, so you step back.

"Watch, it's fun!" John calls, as he slaps his hand on the table and spreads out his fingers.

"Oh, I have all my fingers, the knife goes chop chop chop. If I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off. And if I hit my fingers, the blood will soon come out. But all the same I play this game, 'cause that's what it's all about. Oh, chop chop chop chop chop chop chop I'm picking up the speed, and if I hit my fingers then my hand will start to bleed." He sang eerily, as he stabbed the spaces in between his fingers, slowly picking up speed.

"What the fuck's gotten into you?" you call to him.

"What do you mean, Dave? All the cool kids are playing it these days. And I only want to be cool, Dave, like you!" he said happily, without looking up from his hand.

"Cut it out, Egbert. This isn't like you." You say, pleadingly.

"Yes it is! This has always been me. Deep down, inside my brain, I've always been like this!" he says to you.

"No! What the fuck is going on?! I DEMAND you tell me!" you tell, enraged and frightened.

"D-Dave… why are you being so mean?" he ask, as he begins crying.

You are now flooded with confusion. _What did I do…?_ You think. You round the table and approach him, worried.

"John… John, I didn't mean it. Come on, John, quit crying" you try to reason with him.

He continues crying, covering his face with his hand. You put your arm over his shoulder, awkwardly. I mean, what are you supposed to do?

"Dave.." he manages, through his tears, as he leans into your chest. You hug him now, and you think everything is alright. Then you hear him laugh, however muffled it was, you swear he laughed.

"John, what's so funny?" you ask him. Then it hits you. A sharp, shooting pain pierces your side. You realize what has happened. You look down to see the knife sticking out of you, John's hand covered in your blood.

"John…"

"Dave, you're so dumb, hehe!" he says, cheerfully.

"John, how could you? After all we've been through. All I've done for you…" You manage, fighting tears.

"Simple! I don't feel bad about killing people. In fact, it almost..." he pauses to let out a demented giggle. "turns me on…"

"You fucker" you say, weakly. The pain is unbearable now.

"Oh, Dave. Your facial expressions are so adorable! Now I see why John was so attracted to you." He laughs.

"What… What did you say?"

"Oh, yes! He thought you were _so hot_. He wanted to do things to you. Things like this." He says, just before he leans towards you, and kisses you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

"Why…" you blush, and fall to your back. You remove your glasses, and try to put them in your pocket, but give up because of the pain.

You try to get up. You lean forward, and manage to get on your knees, before falling forward on all fours. You're losing a lot of blood, and it is getting hard to breathe.

"John. John, I'm so sorry…" you say quietly. John drops the knife in front of you. You hear his voice. "Dave… Dave, I'm so sorry…" You cut him off. "No you aren't. I should've been there for you, John. I am the one who's sorry." He drops to his knees in front of you. You meet his gaze, and see that he is crying. You fall to your side, and squeeze your eyes shut, which forces tears to roll down your face. You see him raise the knife to stab you again, but it looks as if he is… fighting himself. Like he doesn't want to go through with it. You call to him.

"Do it, John. Finish what you have started."

"Dave!" he calls regretfully as he stabs you in the neck. You flinch at the pain, but are relieved to know it's almost over. You hear him sobbing, and look up to him. You manage to talk to him, however weak you may sound.

"Hey, John" You cough, and blood trickles out of your mouth. "Don't cry, little buddy. It's my time. Now is my time." He holds you to his chest.

"No, Dave, don't go. Please don't go!" You cough again, splattering blood all over his brightly colored shirt. You look over, to see him pick up the knife. You think it's all over; he's finishing the job.

You hear him sob. "I… I am at least coming with you." He says. He raises the knife to his throat, and presses down. "I'm sorry, Dave…" He slits his own throat. He falls on top of you, wetting your shirt with blood.

"John" you cough.

"Dave… I love you. John Egbert loves you." He says weakly.

"I love you too, John. I've always loved you" You manage, as you fade away. Your body goes limp, and the life fades away. You die, with a smile on your face.


End file.
